Jolly Green Giant and Son
by Definitely-Beautiful
Summary: One-shots, prompts, and requests of Daddy!Bruce and Son!Peter, based off of my story, Spidey Boy and the Jolly Green Giant. Rating may vary within each chapter. pairings: The Cold War, Pepperony, Clint/OC, Thorane, PHill, Daddy!Bruce, possible Bruce/OC, Peter/? PLEASE REQUEST... STUFF. Seriously, I read EVERY comment. Go for it!
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

**Bruce is at a coffee shop with Peter before they head back to the Tower. Peter watches as Bruce makes eye-contact with a pretty brunette woman across the way, and goads him into asking her out.**

**Challenge accepted.**

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"Order up!" Bruce waited impatiently in a comfy chair as he watched people get their drinks. Peter had gone to go grab their coffees, and Bruce just hoped that the seventeen-year-old boy hadn't notice his nervous behavior. Who was he kidding, though? The boy _always_ knew when something was up: something about his spider-sense picking up on imminent danger, and, unfortunately for Bruce, his dad's mood.

Tomorrow was Peter's birthday and, every year, Bruce tried to do something for him. He had adopted Peter after finding him an orphan in Turkey. The boy's whole family had died before he was even 4, yet the teenager was still a bright, upstanding young man. Besides, as Peter would say, he had a new family: the Avengers.

This year was no different. This very moment at the Tower, the whole team was waiting for Peter to get back to surprise him with his surprise party. The Fantastic Four, many of their X-Men friends, and even some of Peter's classmates were joining them. Bruce smiled at the thought.

As Bruce scanned the room for what felt like the 5th time, something- or someone- caught his eye. A woman sat not that far away, alone at a small table with her glasses flashing, an old-looking book in hand, and her hot tea steaming nicely.

The woman wore a pretty, vintage summer dress with an olive and smoky blue pattern on it. It was so strange to see her sitting smartly in a vintage 50s dress, bright red lipstick, and crossed ankles when her background was grungy college kids and Wall Street yuppies with their high-tech tablets and phones.

Bruce didn't really care, though, because she was the most beautiful girl he had ever had the privilege to see. Bruce felt his Adam's Apple drop, and a cold sweat break on his brow. _What the hell was wrong with him? _He didn't get a chance to answer that as Peter sat down with their two coffees, looking tousled and slightly surprised. The boy's appearance cleared his father's head for the moment as he looked curiously at Peter's appearance.

"This coffee joint is crazy. I had to shove my way to the front just to get the coffees. People are crazy," Peter grimaced, grabbing a napkin, "I think I must've gotten burned. Some guy spilled his coffee _all over_ my hand."

"Are you alright? Let me see?" Bruce immediately went into dad mode, grabbing his glasses to examine the boy's hand better.

However, Peter pulled his hand back, "Dad, it's alright. I was exaggerating," Peter gave Bruce a weird look, "Are you alright? You've been kind of... all over the place today. Is everything alright?"

Bruce looked up, blushing, "Yeah, of course. I just, uh..." Bruce's eyes trailed over to the woman once more. His thoughts were all jumbled, what with the secret of the party, and the woman...

Peter had followed his line of site to the woman, and turned back around, smiling broadly.

"What are you staring at, Dad?" Peter said playfully, smirking, "With a look like that, you better be dating her, or else you're an old, pervert."

Bruce's head flipped around, his cheeks blazing, "No, no, it's not like that-" Peter started laughing, "Peter, quiet down a bit, will you? We're in a public place."

Peter did his best to muffle his chuckles, and stared his old man down, "Sorry. I've just never seen you this taken by a woman before. Ever."

"Yes, I've never really had time for women. You were quite the handful, even from the beginning."

Peter smiled, but then frowned. _Had he really been such a handful for his dad to never get a date? Was that really his fault?_

Bruce read his expression, "Oh, Peter, I'm not saying that its your fault. No, I've just never had time, what with my job and you, and the fact that I'm extremely..."

Bruce searched for the word before Peter offered, "Shy?"

Frowning, Bruce replied, "I was going to say introverted."

Peter smirked, "Well, that's too bad, cause she's looking your way."

Peter snorted as Bruce turned a cherry red and ducked his head. Before either of them could say anything more, the woman gathered her things, and left quickly. Bruce frowned and sighed, "Oh well, I guess it wasn't meant to be."

One of the busboys came over to the father and son, "Excuse me, sirs? The lady that was sitting over there left a note for you," the man handed Bruce the note, who thanked the boy, and then turned back to Peter.

Peter was leaning back in his comfy chair, his arms crossed and the biggest grin on his face.

Bruce chuckled, finally giving in, "Alright, alright. Do you want me to read it out loud?"

Peter leaned forward, nodding, so very much the same little boy Bruce had been reading bedtime stories to for years.

Bruce shined his glasses with the edge of his shirt a moment before clearing his throat, "_To the man in the purple dress shirt sitting by the fire,_

_I saw you looking at me. Careful, somebody might think you're a dirty, perverted old man or something. 847-3856 Call me_," By the end of the note, Peter was holding his sides in mirth.

Bruce chuffed in appreciation. _A dirty, old man, huh? Well, then._

Bruce got up, helping the limp Peter out of his chair, and trapping his boy in a headlock, "You think that's funny, huh? Well, let's see how funny it is when I tell Uncle Clint that it was you that put his favorite bow in Jell-o. What do you think of that," Bruce tickled Peter under the ribs, causing the boy to wiggle and wheeze in a fit of giggles. The other occupants of the shop were giving them looks, but Bruce didn't care. Peter was used to be teased; although he was stronger than Bruce in Bruce's not-Hulk form, when Peter was tickled, he was as limp and weak as a rubber doll. This was discovered when he was still little, and had been used against him for years.

Bruce released him when Peter breathlessly giggled out, "Uncle!" and the two gathered their things, walking out of the shop with smiles on their faces. Peter started telling Bruce about his newest personal project and Bruce smiled, thinking how lucky a father he was.

Today had been a good day, and tonight's party would be great fun, but before Bruce relinquished his boy to the Avengers for the night, he would enjoy this little moment, just talking with his teenage son.


	2. Moulting Spider Puberty

**Ok, so this was a prompt from one of my favorite fellow writers, Just Watch Me Fly.**

**Their prompt was: 1. Peter hitting teenage years and his powers going haywire, chaos ensues.**

**It didn't ****_exactly_**** create chaos, but I though it was pretty interesting. Auh, the joys of puberty... Enjoy them, readers! Bask in the glory... of 12 year-old Peter hitting puberty, Spidey style!**

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"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Bruce shot awake, nearly tumbling out of bed as he rushed to go to Peter.

The boy's screams kept up as Bruce tripped over furniture, almost going green with anger over the thought of not being able to protect his son.

When Bruce finally reached the boy's room, he was flabbergasted by what he saw. There sat his 12 year-old son on top of the bunk bed, and on the floor…

Bruce frowned, as he panted from the adrenaline rush. There, on the floor was a… carcass? No, it was a… shell, in the shape of Peter sleeping. Looking up at Peter, tears running down the boy's horrified face, Bruce covered his mouth… and snorted.

After a few quiet chortles, Peter looked up at him as if he had two heads. How could his own father be laughing at that… thing on the floor?!

Looking back at Peter's confused expression, Bruce lost it. He fell to the floor laughing so hard, Peter was sure the grown-man was about to pee himself. By this time, JARVIS had woken Tony, as it seemed a foreign object had induced elevated epinephrine, adrenaline and a number of other hormones in Master Peter, and Dr. Banner was currently incapacitated on the floor.

Just as Bruce had started making a choking sound, Tony walked in.

"Good lord, Bruce, what the hell happen-?" Tony croaked out before stopping in Peter's doorway, "What the **hell** is that?"

By now, Peter had become too annoyed to be sufficiently terrified by the thing, and had gotten down, skimming around it.

Tony helped the red-faced Bruce sit up, and handed him a water bottle from Peter's mini fridge. The boy only kept water in it, which was strange as he was an obsessive soda drinker.

When Bruce could finally breathe properly, he was light-headed, and thinking he might have over done it with the laughter, but it couldn't have been helped. Bruce led the two to his labs, pulling up the research he'd been doing recently.

Tony and Peter pestered Bruce with questions about what the heck was going on but the man was inconsolable. Obviously, he must have gone insane.

Bruce finally took in one breath and cleared his giggles, "I'm so sorry. I really am. It's not really that funny, but…" He snickered, before drinking more water to cool himself down, "Tony, Peter's just hit puberty.

Tony and Peter both cocked their head in such a similar way, that Bruce started to lose it again. Tony wacked his best friend upside the head, and he shut up quickly, turning back to pull up some documents.

"I've been looking into it best I can to see what to expect. Peter, have you heard about puberty at school yet?" Bruce looked warily at Peter, a little nervous about having the Talk at 3 in the morning with Tony adding his two cents.

"Yeah," Peter admitted huffily, still grumpy and confused. And a little hurt too. He was scared out of his wits, and his Dad just laughed at him.

Bruce frowned, saying, "Peter, I'm sorry. That was really insensitive of me to laugh like that. But it really isn't anything to worry about," When the boy still wouldn't answer him, instead looking glumly at the floor, Bruce gestured for him to join him up on the stools.

Although Peter had his own lab of sorts closer to his room, he rarely got to join his dad in the bigger lab, so he quickly joined the older man up on the stools. Tony joined, standing behind Peter like a protective shield.

Bruce then pointed to the screen, "I expect that, including our little friend on your bedroom floor, you're about to get a few other unexpected surprises as well. And they aren't all that pleasant," Bruce grimaced while Tony smirked.

"W-what do you mean?" Peter asked, innocently confused. He was still so small and young, so much the little boy Bruce had found in Turkey who had trustingly taken the hand of a total stranger.

"Well, along with what you've learned in class, you'll also start having spider puberty," this time, even Tony looked confused.

"Are you saying Peter's going to grow another set of arms and legs or something?!" Peter's eyes widened in alarm at the thought.

"No, no! Shut up, Tony, you're not helping. No, but we may be seeing a few more of those shell things soon. I don't know how that's even possible but…" Bruce turned back to the holo-screen, thinking.

"Spit it out, Brucey. I'd like to get some sleep tonight," Tony said, sighing dramatically.

Bruce sighed, "While spiders mature, they go through a moulting season. Because spiders' skeletal frame is on the outside, as arachnids have exoskeletons, they have to have a way of growing larger. They can't be born the size they are, that'd be absurd. Well, instead, they fill the inside of the bodies with a type of fluid before popping off the previous skeleton and growing the new one. I really don't understand why this happened to you, though, Peter. You don't have an exoskeleton, neither do you need to go through this process. It's like a weird… side-effect of cross-species genetics…" Bruce and Tony started to discuss the possible implications when they were suddenly stuck to the table. Peter yelped before running over.

"I'm so sorry! I really am, I didn't mean it, honest, I was just looking the other way and they went off!" Peter had apparently webbed his dad and uncle.

Half an hour and many broken wire cutters later, and the two men were still picking webbing out of their hair. After having given up on his hair for the most part, Bruce had turned to look more closely at Peter's wrists.

Bruce had to marvel once more at the beauty of his son's cross-species physical changes. On both the boy's wrists were two small bumps, hiding a complex system of natural webshooters underneath the skin. Bruce had seen this so many times but he never tired of how amazing his son was. He was sure no father could be more proud.

"Malfunctioning webshooters might also be a side-effect. I'm going to need you to wrap your wrists up every morning before school, alright Peter?" Bruce knelt down in front of his son, giving him a this-means-business face.

Peter scowled, "But the kids'll think I'm weird, erh, weirder than I already am…"

Bruce frowned; he knew that the kids at school picked on Peter for living at Stark Tower, because who wouldn't be jealous of the boy? Not only did he live with the Avengers- who were basically his family- but he also lived in the huge Stark Tower, and was really rich.

And, along with Peter's special abilities, another thing the public didn't know was that Peter was also heir to the Stark Empire.

Tony and Pepper had come home last year from the doctors with test results showing infertility. Tony had locked himself in his lab for weeks, not coming out to even eat. JARVIS finally let them in when he passed out from hunger. The idiot had to be hospitalized, and all while Pepper needed comforting. The woman had been inconsolable for a few days, but had gotten over it surprisingly fast. That's Pepper for you. When Tony had finally been discharged, he'd written into his will that Peter was the sole heir to Stark industries as agreed to by Pepper.

"I know it's tough, Bud, and I'm sorry. But you know they're just jealous, right? Sooner or later, you'll meet some great kids who'll want to be your friend. Then, you can bring them over whenever you like, k?"

Peter sighed and nodded glumly.

Tony, who could never be kept silent for long, finally interjected, "Ugh, bed. Now. I'm out. Peter, puberty isn't that bad. Really. Don't worry about it. It works itself out in the end, and soon, you won't even notice it, k?" Tony stared Peter down as he walked backwards out the door- narrowly avoiding a laser cutter- before turning and walking out.

Come on, Peter. Let's get to bed, too. You have school in a few hours and you need your beauty sleep," Bruce ruffled his son's hair, grinning as the boy struggled to get away, giggling.

Bruce watched as Peter ran to his room, checked, then yelled back, "Looks like Tony took care of… it. G'night, Dad!" the boy disappeared into his room as the door closed and the lights turned out.

Bruce shook his head, smiling. Life in Avengers Tower would never get old, and never stop surprising, that's for sure.


	3. Project Araneae

**Why Do You Care? pt. 1**

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Peter stood upon the balcony of Avengers Mansion. His family had just gotten back from a mission that had required the Hulk to attend.

Usually when they got back from a mission, Peter would be waiting in the hangar, giggling as the turbines of the quinjet blew his hair back and nearly knocked him over. They didn't anymore, of course, because Peter was a big boy now. He was nearly 9, and a little wind couldn't push **him** over.

Today was different; Peter had been thinking- a lot. Early that morning, he had finally rewired JARVIS to let him play in the attic. JARVIS had warned that any attempts to tamper would most likely send alerts to Uncle Tony, but Peter was sure he had been careful enough not to get caught. When he finally climbed up there, he found a treasure trove of everything a little boy- genius or not- could dream of.

The attic was the same square width of the house's floor plan, but there weren't any walls to separate the space, making it a warehouse of sorts. Looking around, Peter could spot everything from unfinished projects and experiments of Uncle Tony's and his Dad's to blown up stuff to 'glories of battle' as Uncle Thor might say- mounted monster and robot heads, or freeze-rays and other assortments of weapons, actual gold and jewels and pirate's booty type things, all of which took up a lot of space.

Peter oohed and awwed over the collection, and spent at least two hours going over the specs of a killer robot ice cream truck, until he came across a filing cabinet and shelf full of old books and papers. An oddity, since Uncle Tony had 'gone green' years ago- more out of his hatred for paperwork than helping the environment. Peter looked over the shelves, reading many leather bound books with titles like 'Kar Kregnikh Fyghom', 'Spells for Dummies', 'Dr. Doom's Autobiography', 'The Tales of Tiung Tse and Lse Ihes'. The last one had a glass box around it and a sticker stating that opening the book would lead to immediate death, or being sucked into a wormhole to another dimension. Interesting.

The shelf above this one had what looked to be photo albums on it. Peter saw dates leading back to 2000 and leading up to, and past, the year he was adopted by his Dad and the Avengers.

This was unexpected; Peter took down the book with his birthday year on it- because that'd be the best place to start obviously- and opened up to find the first picture of his Dad, Bruce Banner, and Richard Parker, his biological father, shaking hands over a placard on a case of vials that was titled 'Araneae'.

"Spider," Peter translated aloud.

Puzzled as to why his Dad would have anything to do with a project involving his abusive, biological father, especially when it had to do with spiders, Peter put the book back and reached for the previous year to see what had happened leading up to that.

What Peter found was... heartbreaking. And horrifying.

His Dad had been part of the program that gave him his spider powers- after tortuous experimentation, that is.

His Dad was one of the monsters to hurt him. His Dad, the man he'd always trusted, was a monster.

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**part 1. Don't worry, all will be revealed... relatively soon... review to receive more updates! This is a gave and take relationship people! I can't be the only one working for it... jk. LOVE YOU ALL!**


	4. Green Eggs and Ham

**GUESS WHO'S BACK, FUDGIES!**

**That's right, I'm going to begin updating again! I'm sorry to say that it'll only be Jolly Green Giant and Son that'll be updating, but maybe! If you kick my arse a few times, I'll pick at my main fic a bit. Who knows! Hope you like this chapter, and I'll be back soon with more!**

**SIDE DISH OF IMPORTANT: Please please PLEASE send me requests and shtuff. I promise I will write WHATEVER you ask* and get it up as quick as possible. Requests make me responsible to you guys to fulfill my promises, so please do that!**

***Emma's nonexistent lawyers would like to point out that she has every right to refuse a prompt if it is beyond her comfort zone (i.e. grotesque, overly sexual, including subject matter that may be a trigger to herself or others, etc.). Please be aware of this and respond accordingly.**

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Prompt:

Peter meets the Hulk for the first time.

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'Shit shit shit shit,' the word streamed through Tony's head, 'this couldn't be happening.'

It finally had, though. In the last 3 years that they had had Pete, Bruce had yet to go green- outside of unpublicized missions, of course, meaning nowhere that Peter might be anywhere close, much less see. This had to be a rather impressive record, if you asked Tony, especially since 1) they lived with _Tony_ and 2) there had been at least two attacks on the city that had required the Avengers attention (Peter had thankfully been out of town during both incidents).

Unfortunately, tonight that record was broken- with two giant, meaty Hulk fists.

The team had just finished movie night when Peter pointed out that they were out of whoppers- Petey's favorite. Tony told them he'd have someone go get some, but Bruce volunteered. Tony had been pestering him about this idea to replace the Avengers with "something more powerful than any of us". Bruce had needed some air.

That's where they found themselves now. Apparently, a mugger decided that Bruce looked an easy target, and one thing lead to a knife... Bruce turned green.

The others were currently out trying to calm him down while Tony was waiting for Pepper to arrive to watch Peter. When she finally walked through the elevator doors, asking what was going on, Tony practically jumped off the balcony, barely getting out a "WATCH PETEY!" before zooming off.

He arrived halfway into a battle of strength between the Hulk and Thor in a ruined fountain in the park. Natasha was flying the quinjet around the two with Clint hanging out the side, shooting a myriad of different arrows at the Hulk. None seemed to be helping.

"Clint! Shoot him with a tranc-dart already!" Tony demanded over the comms.

"D'you think I'm a freaking idiot! I already tried that on E Street. He ran here before any of it could take effect- Woah! Natasha, look out!" Clint seemed to disappear into the jet just in time to miss a piece of fountain, leaving a dent in the side.

Tony growled. That'd cost him a hell of a lot in repairs and insurance. Dammit. Thor and the Hulk continued exchanging blows while all the while, the rest of the team hovered above, trying not to hit their demigod comrade.

"Clint, where's Cap?" Tony asked as he shot blasts at the Hulk, narrowly missing Thor's arm.

"Last I saw, he was directing civilians and traffic away from these two monkeys' battle zone. Hulk trashed the side of a building a bit of a ways back, so he's coordinating with police and the fire department."

'Don't know what he'd be able to do anyway,' Tony thought to himself, 'and it looks like the Hulk and Thor are winding down," the two were currently pacing around each other.

And then, so quickly that they barely had time to react, the Hulk took a swing at Thor sending the demigod flying into the nearby forest. Hulk roared his supremacy at Thor's retreating form before beginning his continuous shot-putting of random items at the rest of the Avengers. This was mostly what kept the Avengers from noticing the tiny form of a child moving towards the Hulk, his favorite blanket dragging in the dirt and dewy grass.

Natasha was the first to notice the boy's presence, "Peter! Get out of here!"

The rest of the team paused in between avoiding flying objects to notice the small child quietly making his way towards his… well, the Other Guy. Before anyone could stop him, Peter had come into the Hulk's view.

The sight of a new threat, however small, had the Hulk lifting his current ammo above his head and roaring at the tiny boy. It was then that Peter pulled something out from under his blanket- a book.

Everything stilled, event the Hulk who breathed heavily, his nostrils still flaring. They all waited on baited breath to see what would happen, Natasha having already aimed her battalion of missiles at the Hulk's form.

Peter's voice, however quiet, rang out through the clearing, "Would you read me a bedtime story?" It seemed such an absurd thing to say in that moment that Tony would have laughed, but the boy's imminent danger put that on the back burner.

The Hulk crushed whatever was left in his hands, causing Peter to cough a bit as dust rained down on him, before he put his hand out to the child. Peter clumsily crawled into his paw of a hand, using his 'sticky fingers' to crawl up onto the Hulk's shoulder, book in hand. The Hulk watched carefully, before straightening. Looking at the other Avengers, he sniffed, and then shot off towards the Tower, leaving the somewhat dumbfounded others to follow, Peter's giggles ringing in their ears.

When the whole team finally arrived back at the Tower- they had to make a pit stop downtown to review and take account of all the damages and pick up Cap- they found the Unhulkified Bruce and Peter asleep on the couch. Not wanting to wake them, Clint and Natasha headed to their specified rooms, while Thor and Cap followed Pepper to the infirmary to clean up some wounds.

Tony quietly walked over to the pair to get a better look, only to find a pair of sleepy brown eyes staring back at him. Peter had woken up.

"Hey, Petey. D'you get that story you asked for?" Tony whispered.

The boy nodded, smiling, "Yeah, but it was really funny. That green guy is real nice, but he's not so good with his reading," Peter tried to stifle his giggles so as not to wake up his dad.

Tony's eyes widened, "You mean Big, Mean and Green read you that book?"

The boy nodded and held up a crumpled bunch of papers. Tony noticed the title:

_Green Eggs and Ham_ by Dr. Seuss

Tony nodded, his face breaking out into a smirk at the irony. He'd need a picture of this. Peter lay his head back down against his father's chest, seemingly falling asleep immediately.

"Jarvis, please tell me you've taken a picture of this already," Tony whispered quietly.

'Already done, sir,' the AI answered quietly.

Tony dimmed the lights a bit more before walking down to his lab for some much needed late night tinkering.

It would only later be pointed out to Tony that, in the photo- which he had hung on a wall along with many other memories- Banner almost, almost looked to be smiling.

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**HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONE.**

**It's a bit cheesy, and I kept getting annoyed with all the spaces in between paragraphs, and sometimes the wording felt funny (I think I'm rusty), but it was WORTH it! Finally, getting back into the swing of things! I just love it when my fingers type really fast to keep up with my brain. Makes me think of all those movies where actors mindlessly 'type' away at a keyboard…\**

**Also wanted to point out that I don't actually like whoppers. I just couldn't get them out of my head as Peter's favorite, so we're just gonna keep it that way 'til his tastes change.**

**SEND MORE REQUESTS IF YOU WANT THIS STORY TO LIVE. THAT IS AN ACTUAL THREAT. LIKE, A REAL THREAT THAT'S REALLY THREATENING AND SHOULD THREATEN YOU… FEEL THREATENED!**


	5. Project Araneae (Why Do You Care) pt2

**Why Do You Care? pt. 2**

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**The continuation of our (hopefully) 3-part saga!**

**Peter found out that his adoptive father, Bruce Banner, was part of the project that turned Peter into Spideykid! This wouldn't be so bad if it hadn't been for the illegal experiments that Peter's biological father performed on him as part of the project. After discovering what his dad had done, Peter fate betrayed and angry. See what happens next...**

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JARVIS called from inside the house faintly, "Master Peter, your father is calling for you. He would like to know if you were feeling alright. He took notice of your absence from the hangar."

Peter hesitated, unsure of how to make his next move. He was so angry at this betrayal, but the anger was too blinding for him to think clearly. He needed some time to think.

"Tell him I'm not feeling well, and that I'm going to go sleep," Peter spat out before wincing. It wasn't JARVIS' fault that his dad was a liar and a monster.

"Will do, sir. However, your vitals appear normal. Are you sure-?"

"I just don't want to talk to him right now, JARVIS. So, just tell him I'm not feeling good, k?"

The AI seemed to pause before answering, "He says he'll be up in a bit to check on you."

Peter nodded, before quickly running to his room to throw on his pajamas. He'd have to fake sleeping in order to get out of talking to his dad.

When Bruce finally got up to his son's room, he was a little rumpled. He'd had a tough day out in the field today, trying to keep his temper under control until he was needed, and it had been a tough fight, even for the Hulk. Coming home to his son's grinning face was _always_ the highlight of the mission. But, JARVIS said Peter wasn't feeling well? What could be the matter?

Opening the door into the dark bedroom. It was slightly surreal to be in the room at this time of day, the orange and gold of the sunset streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows giving the room a silent, still feeling. Walking over to his son's bed, Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, watching his son's even breathing.

"Goodnight, Peter," he whispered, smiling affectionately at the child before giving the child's cheek a kiss and swiftly leaving to get dinner started.

Had he stayed a bit longer, Bruce might have noticed tears begin to trickle down the boy's face, staining the satin pillow cases with big, salty drops.

Time seemed a foreign concept as Peter cried until, without even realizing it, he had fallen asleep.

}}}CRACK{{{

The noise split through Peter's room, waking him with a jolt just as lightning flooded his vision. The boy sat up in his bed, trying to gather his bearings as he listened to the heavy rain pelting the window.

A crinkling sound caught Peter's attention and he looked down at his hand. In it was the photo.

Peter's thoughts swarmed with the same hurt as before but now it was more sorrow and loneliness than anger and betrayal.

Crumpling up the photo some more, the young boy dropped it on his nightstand and got out of bed. He knew what he'd have to do. He couldn't live with this. He'd have to leave, run away to somewhere he could be alone. He'd have to leave tonight.

It wasn't until later that morning that anyone noticed anything was wrong. Tony had just walked out of his lab and into the kitchen where Steve was already making breakfast when he noticed it. JARVIS' kitchen interface was off.

"Steve," Tony said, concerned, "How long has that panel been out?"

Steve looked up, following Tony's eyes to the blank screen, "Auh, umh, I- don't know. I've never noticed it befor-"

"JARVIS? What's going on?" Steve frowned at Tony's worried tone, confusion clear in his eyes.

JARVIS' voice echoed from the other room, "It would appear that my systems have been tampered with, sir. I'm checking the security now to see the authorization codes."

Tony quickly walked out of the room and into the living room to another panel. Looking over the data, it looked like… Petey?

Tony opened a comm link to Peter's room, "Hey Petey, quit messing around with JARVIS' systems, kid. You could do some real damage without the proper supervision- dammit, I sound like your dad. Just don't do it again, ok kid?"

No one answered.

"Pete? Kid, you there? You awake?" Tony frowned, annoyed. He hated being messed with, "JARVIS, where's the kid?"

"He is not on the premises, sir. He left some time last night."

Tony looked towards where Steve had walked out of the kitchen. Both of them stared at each other with wide eyes. This was bad.

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**Ok, because this is getting kinda long, and also because I feel like drawing it out into three parts, I'm going to cut it off here for you guys!**

**SIDE NOTE: While I was writing this, I was listening to the Dark Knight soundtrack and I don't know how that affected the writing, but I think it's a bit different from part 1. Might even be a bit cheesy. Even so, I like where this is headed. I might even make it part of the official story, just to get some angst in there. Should prove ****_very_**** interesting…**


	6. The Date part 1

**So, I finally wrote this out. It's just the beginning, really. It's not the actual date itself, and I'm pretty sure it's just filler, but maybe you guys'll get a kick out of it!**

**Ok, let me know what you think! Don't worry, I am working on _Spidey Boy and the Jolly Green Giant_, but I just got a job, and I have a class over the summer, so I'm surprisingly swamped. Again. Hopefully I'll get something out soon!**

**In the meantime, enjoy!**

_This is finally happening. Wow, ok, Bruce, don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak._ This little mantra followed Bruce all the way up to the stoop, as he knocked on the bright blue door. _What color is this door anyway? It was too bright to be sky blue, and too mild to be categorized as whatever the paint stores might say it is- electric blue or something ridiculous like that._

Before Bruce could come up with a sensible name for it, the door opened. And suddenly, Bruce could no longer breathe.

Clara stood in her bright red high-waisted skirt and black and white striped shirt, her hair and makeup done to simplistic perfection. Bruce was stunned. He was about to go out with a girl who looked like she had just stepped out of a movie screen. She was absolutely perfect. How did he manage that?

The two stood there for a while saying nothing, before Clara cleared her throat and smiled shyly, making Bruce flush with color- he'd been staring for a good minute or two.

"Hi," his voice cracked. Bruce cleared his throat and grabbed at his collar, smiling despite his tomato cheeks.

"Hi," Clara answered back, a laughing glimmer in her eyes.

"Hi," Bruce said again, his voice quiet.

Clara paused, her brow pinching in a bemused half smile, "Yes, hello, Bruce."

Bruce laughed slightly, looking down before offering his hand, "You look beautiful."

Clara gave him her hand, blushing suddenly when the man lightly kissed her knuckles, "thank you. You're looking quite handsome yourself."

The two blushed some more.

Across the street, a strange group of people sat in the bushes, watching.

"I can't see- Nat, I can't see, scootch over," Clint complained in an overly loud whisper.

Natasha and Peter both shushed him.

"Quiet, you idiot, they might hear you," Natasha whispered back.

Clint looked hurt for a moment, before sullenly scooting back into his spot, mumbling something about peanut butter later tonight.

Natasha gave him a look that spelled death across his forehead.

Peter ignored them, watching through a pair of binoculars they'd bought just for today. Honestly, he could hear his dad and the date just fine, and his eyesight was good enough that he really didn't need these, but he didn't care. Spying meant acting like a spy, and spies had binoculars (Tiny Conscience Tony spewed that bit of logic into his brain, thank you very much). Peter needed to get out more. Obviously, if the best thing he'd done all weekend was spy on his dad with half the family sitting next to him, as the older man went on his first actual date in centuries.

Yeah, probably.

"I agreed to sanction this mission as long as we didn't disturb Bruce on his date- or let him know that we were here," Steve finally spoke up from Clint's right, "So, Clint, I need you to hush up."

They all went quiet, turning back to watching the couple across the street.

Steve had been against the idea at the start. When Peter let slip that Bruce had a date with a pretty woman they'd seen at the coffee shop, the whole team had gone nearly ballistic. Everybody- besides Steve- wanted to come, including Tony who was currently stuck in Malibu with Pepper. The genius was growing mushrooms in a corner, his loving girlfriend having forced him not to hop on his private jet until the business convention they were at was over. He so wanted to be a part of the action, but Pepper was scary boss lady, and Tony was loathe to disobey her.

While Bruce nervously worked on some random projects in the lab, waiting 'til 5 o'clock when he had to get ready for his date, Steve was facing a barrage of pleading and begging to go spy on said date.

Peter, of course, was really worried for his dad- well, maybe not all that worry was for his dad. He'd been the only person that Bruce's life had revolved around for so long, and to have a possible intrusion on their father/son relationship… could he allow it? He was also worried for his dad. He had wanted his dad to go out on a date for years- the man was lonely, he could tell. As much as Peter hated to admit it, he wasn't enough for his dad. The older man needed a little romance in his life (Tiny Conscience Tony had a lot more to say on Bruce's lack of a romantic life, but I digress). As you can tell, Peter's emotions were rather conflicted about this date.

As for Clint and Natasha, when Steve asked them why they could possibly want to go, Clint had just smirked deviously, before a whack upside the head from Nat had him pouting. The Black Widow blandly stated that having the Hulk in an emotionally unpredictable situation was dangerous and should be monitored by SHIELD closely. This didn't really help their case, since Bruce and the Big Guy seemed to have come to terms with each other over the years that they'd had Peter. Hulk was very careful to keep from coming out and smashing things whenever Peter was around, and "around" for Hulk meant "a city-wide radius".

Steve frowned, but after a good few minutes more of begging, he cracked. Peter simply had to say, "I just want to see my dad happy" and Steve was putty.

The man did, however, treat the whole thing like a mission- comms, equipment, and security procedures.

That was why, if someone came across that particular set of bushes in the particular park that evening, they'd find Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Spiderman all sitting in the dirt, hidden away, and spying on a quiet, well dressed couple on the porch of the house across the street.

Luckily, no one did past by those bushes, so Peter and his family sat in relative peace as they watched Bruce open the door for the subject, a.k.a. Mrs. Hulk. They were headed to a quiet restaurant Bruce had once taken Peter to not long after he'd adopted him. Peter smiled quietly at the memory. Yeah, that was a good day.

Steve held his hand up, signaling the team to wait for the all clear as the car pulled away and around the corner.

"Ok, all clear. Move out," Steve called.

The team sprang into action, racing across the park to the inconspicuous-not-so-much black car, trailing after Bruce's tiny Audi something or other. It was clean and reliable and all he needed, was the only thing Bruce had said on the matter when Tony had offered to buy him a bright, flashy red muscle car.

Natasha drove a good distance behind, hitting a few lights but never seeming to lose them. That's why she was always picked to drive. Whether it was finding the quickest route through traffic, tailing a baddie, or long road trips, she was the one for the job.

They watched as Bruce and Clara reached the parking lot of the tiny diner, walking inside and disappearing from view.

The team made their way along an alleyway- still dressed in their costumes, mind you- before entering through the back. The cooks seemed rather surprised to have the well-known Avengers- and Spiderman- walk in through the back door and ask for an inconspicuous table for four. Well, maybe that's putting it lightly, but the four of them were soon sitting casually in a booth, placed strategically behind a plant (why does a diner have a potted plant in it? We don't really know, nor have the time to go into), so that they could easily view their friend/father and his date. Without being _too_ obvious. You know. Like being in full costume. In a tiny diner. Hidden by a potted plant.

This was not going to end well.


	7. Good Guys and Bad Guys

**Ok, this is going to be a long one!**

**I KNOW I haven't updated my main story since, like, last weekend, but I had a test Thursday, and sh*t hit the friggin' fan that day, and I've been out of commission since, trying to feel better, AND catch up on the sh*t I've been letting go.**

**I'M SUCH A PROCRASTINATING POTATO!**

Peter knew what was right and what was wrong. He knew good guys from bad guys, and he saw the line between the two sides every day.

His dad was good. Dad played Mousetrap with Peter, and made the best cookies- even though they always came out burnt, Peter knew they would've been the best- and he worked with Uncle Tony who was really cool 'cuz he made Peter fun toys, and Dad let Peter sit in the lab with them and make important decisions, even if those decisions turned out badly. He and Uncle Tony would always explain why the machine exploded or what caused the chemicals to fizz and smell icky. They were nice, and treated him like he was smart enough to understand, unlike Peter's teachers who thought children Peter's age couldn't handle glue and stickers.

Peter's dad was good, Peter knew. Flash Thompson was not good.

Peter figured this out the first day of elementary school when Flash stole Peter's snacks when the teacher wasn't looking, and pinched him so he wouldn't tell.

This went on throughout elementary school, even if Flash cycled through his victims, Peter always seemed to be a favorite.

It was on one particular day, as Peter watched Flash holding a smaller boy up so that the boy's feet dangled off the ground, that Peter contemplated using his powers to stop Flash. His dad said that Peter's powers were a big responsibility and had to be used wisely. Dad had said that it was dangerous for people to know that Peter was so special, because then somebody might want to take Peter away from his Daddy and family. Peter had no problem agreeing if it meant he could stay with his family. Bruce had also said that nobody was allowed to hurt Peter, though, and if they did, Peter should tell Daddy or any of his aunts or uncles.

Peter frowned. Well, Flash tried to hurt Peter, and he did hurt his feelings by taking his snacks or crumpling his drawings, but he had yet to actually hurt Peter. Hurting meant leaving bruises or blood or something, like when Tony sparred with Aunt Tasha.

No, Flash only pinched him or pulled his hair or shoved him to the ground, and Peter could always catch himself, so he was always fine.

The real problem was the other kids. They weren't like Peter, and couldn't make Flash stop hurting them. And, Peter thought with a twist of his nose, nobody ever said anything about it. The teachers would say that the kids were clumsy and shouldn't shove one another on the playground or somebody would get hurt, and blah blah blah.

Peter also knew that, if he were to tell a teacher or his daddy, he'd be a tattle-tail, and tattle-tails were bad. Nobody would play with him if he was a tattle-tail. Plus, Flash would really not like him, and he might get picked on even more!

Peter was at a dilemma. How to help without being a tattle-tail and without using his powers?

Peter huffed, before a sound caught his attention. He looked up just in time to see the young boy race around the corner of the building- past where the teachers said it was ok to play- and Flash followed him, disappearing seemingly without the teacher noticing.

Peter followed quickly- his heightened hearing picked up the little boy's crying and Flash's mean words. Before he turned the corner, he heard it.

Taking the corner, Peter took in the sight of Flash standing over the boy- whose nose was now bleeding. Flash had never hit anyone before, not that Peter had seen.

That was the last straw.

Peter didn't want to listen to the taunts anymore, so he took a step forward- before stopping. No, he couldn't use his powers.

Ok, what to do then?

Flash looked about ready to punch the boy again, so Peter looked around, trying to find anything to help him.

What to do what to do what to do!

Looking at the building, he finally noticed it- a fire escape leading to the roof.

The ladder to the fire escape was too high, but there was a fence a few away against the mid-side of the building that he could climb. Then, he wouldn't be too close to Flash to be labeled a tattle-tail, the teacher would try to stop him and would hear Flash and everything would work out!

Peter ran the short distance to the fence and started to climb the chainlinks- immediately, the teacher on recess duty began yelling at him to get down. The young woman began walking over to him, and Peter pretended not to hear, making his way up the fence just a little, before shifting farther left, towards Flash and the boy. The teacher came over, pulling him off the fence, and began to lecture him, but Peter wasn't really listening.

He waited for Flash or the boy to be loud enough, but no new sounds could be heard from around the corner.

"Are you even listening to me?" the teacher asked.

Tsking, she grabbed Peter's arm and began to pull him away towards the time-out area, but Peter struggled. He'd thought this plan out perfectly; if only she'd wait a second longer, she might hear-

A strangled scream and loud sobs followed, catching the teacher's ears and making her turn. She paused before hauling Peter with her as she rounded the corner- only to find something very similar to what Peter had seen earlier- Flash standing over the little boy, whose nose was bleeding profusely nose and seemed to be holding his eye.

The teacher gasped before grabbing Flash, wrenching the boy away from the crying child, and taking him by the ear. She momentarily let go of Peter, glaring at him in a way that said she hadn't forgotten him, before taking out her walkie-talkie and 'calling for backup' as Uncle Clint called it.

A few moments later- most of which were filled with Flash crying as the teacher ranted at him- a second teacher turned the corner and spoke with the first before picking up the bloodied little boy and carrying him away. Flash and Peter were roughly dragged off the playground, all the other children stopping to stare, and dragged inside to the secretary's office. They were told to sit in the waiting chairs and wait for the principal to see them.

Peter was a little worried, but at least his plan worked, so he wasn't too scared.

On second thought, Peter said to himself, scratch that. Flash was staring at him like he was imagining burning holes on Peter's forehead with a magnifying glass.

Peter looked down, intimidated. Obviously, Flash figured out his plan. He would definitely not get out of this free and clear.

The boys ended up being talked to by the principal together, and for some unfair reason, Peter was given the same punishment as Flash- as if he had any part in beating up the other kid! Both boys would have the parents called and be sent home early. They'd also have to do class chores during recess from now on until their teacher said otherwise.

Dad was gonna be so mad, Peter thought, and Flash now hated his guts for sure.

Peter's day really couldn't get any worse. He felt like he could cry.

When his Dad finally did pull up, chauffeured by Happy, Peter's eyes were red and his nose was running. Daddy opened the door for him and as they buckled their seat belts, Peter watched as another car pulled up- a really beat up truck that looked really dirty. The man that got out looked extremely angry and moved like he was gonna be violent. He grabbed Flash, who was standing on the curve, looking down, and nearly through the little boy into the passenger seat, slamming the door and nearly clipping the bully's feet. He was yelling angrily, something about having to leave work.

Peter finally looked over to his Dad- who had yet to say a word. Daddy was also looking at the man as he drove off, frowning slightly, before noticing Peter looking at him.

"Peter, what happened today?" He asked quietly. That voice was the worst, because Peter could never tell if Dad was angry, or even worse, disappointed.

Peter felt his eyes water as he tried to explain what happened at recess. His story was barely coherent in-between his hiccupping sobs, but Dad seemed to get the jist of it.

"Peter, as much as I don't like what you did, you did a very good thing," Peter stared back confused, "You should have told the teacher, instead of getting in trouble to get her attention. I know you said that you didn't want to be a tattle-tail, but bullies like that boy, Flash-" Dad paused looking back at the spot the old truck once was (they were still sitting in front of the school, Happy having yet to head home for some reason), "It wouldn't be tattling if you're trying to help someone. Adults sometimes don't see bullies, and if we can't see them, how are we supposed to know they're there if no one tells us?"

Peter considered this bit of wisdom.

Dad continued, "Now, while what you did wasn't necessarily ok, you still followed the rules, and didn't use your powers. That, I think, is reason enough to go get ice cream, don't you?" As soon as the words left his mouth, the car started, and Peter smiled tearfully, and the car moved away from the school.

Peter felt excited. He'd done the right thing in the end- maybe he'd gone about it the wrong way, but he'd learn from this, and try to do it better next time.

Looking up at his Dad, Peter noticed him frowning. He frowned too, thinking back to the mean man who shoved Flash into the truck.

Peter had never considered how to deal with adult bullies. He asked his dad just that, and received a grimace in return, "Adult bullies are meant for adults to fight, not children. Even so, we don't know what's going on in Flash's home, and it's not our place to know. We can tell the school, and they can ask the right people to check up on Flash, but we can't do anything ourselves."

Peter nodded, staring out the window; maybe bullies were like other children, they learned stuff from their parents. Peter had learned to make cool stuff with his dad, and his dad taught him important things like that stealing was bad and that you shouldn't lie. Maybe Flash's dad taught him to be mean and to hurt others. Peter frowned, so, maybe it wasn't Flash's fault that he was so mean to others. He didn't know any better.

Peter sighed, as his world became less black and white. So the bad guys might not be totally bad, and if they were, it might not be their fault.

Good vs. Bad

Peter shook his head and sighed, this was something he hoped he'd understand when he was older.

**Sorry it's so long! I kept trying to find a good way to end it, and everything kept leading to something else, so it took a while. Hope you still liked it! I personally consider this part of my story's canon, but since I haven't gotten that far, I'll post it here until I think the main story needs it.**


	8. The Date part 2

**Ok, so this was kind of... I felt like my writing was pretty crappy in this, but I hope you guys still enjoy it!**

**Also, PLEASE DON'T HATE ME FOR WHAT I HAVE DONE.**

* * *

"This was a terrible plan. Who came up with this plan again?" Natasha stared casually at the menu in front of her, her bright red hair shining like a signal flare in the diner's fluorescent lighting.

Peter glared back, "Well, uniforms were not a part of the plan. You guys were supposed to come undercover, in inconspicuous clothing, like me," the boy gestured to his own clothes, an old sweatshirt and jeans.

Natasha huffed, she didn't want to be here. She… she had research to do on the latest mission Fury had given the team. They still had a bit before they had to leave for the mission, a week, maybe more, and she didn't want to waste it, here, watching Bruce go out on a date.

Cap and Clint were both doing their best to hide Cap's suit which was the most blaringly obvious of them all.

Meanwhile, across the diner, Amelia and Bruce were actually enjoying themselves. They talked about their favorite authors and music, what they did in their spare time.

Amelia worked as a kindergarten teacher at a local elementary school, and volunteered at the retirement home in the next town over. Her father lived there, after her mother had passed away a few years ago, and she would often go help out and keep him company.

Bruce vaguely explained that he was a scientist who worked with a friend on random projects, privately funded- she didn't need to know the whole gist of it since it was kind of overwhelming to explain the whole "best friends with Tony Stark and living in Avengers Tower" without explaining… more. Bruce had decided he wasn't ready to tell her about his greener side, not just yet anyway.

"I found a first edition of War and Peace, a first edition mind you, in this little shop in St. George- I like to go window-shopping at antique stores sometimes- and you would never believe how much it was priced at," Bruce waited a second to draw out the suspense, "$25.00. A first edition War and Peace worth $25.00. I was completely dumbfounded," the two laughed together, "I told the shop own what it was actually worth, and he brushed me off, saying he didn't care if it was worth two cents, he just wanted me to get out the store so he could close already," Amelia giggled at the absurdity of it, "Oh, I'd love to show it to you sometime," Bruce flushed a bit, "Erh, if you wanted to, that is. I mean, my place… I live with my son and our… family, so it's a little awkward, and I would totally understand if you-"

Amelia laughed, "I'd love to see it. A first edition of War and Peace? Are you kidding me?"

They laughed some more before her expression turned to utter giddiness. Bruce felt himself spruce up; things were going well, maybe this could work out, maybe-

"Ok, I have to ask," Amelia started, leaning over the table conspiratorially, "You've lived in New York a lot longer than I have. Do you think those people sitting at that table over there are the Avengers, or just dressed up as them?" Bruce's head shot towards the table Amelia was inconspicuously gesturing to; his expression dropped, but the woman didn't notice, "Because they came in just a bit after us, and they've been looking this way a bit. I've never actually seen the Avengers before, but I'd love to get their autographs or something. Can you imagine-"

Bruce had been staring daggers at the table; it took him a second to notice that Amelia had stopped talking. He turned back to his date.

Amelia stared at him as though he'd grown two heads, "Bru-ce, your… eyes…"

Bruce's expression dropped even further, "Oh, Amelia, it's… seriously, it's nothing, I just-"

"-Are you a mutant?" her question caught Bruce by surprise.

"Uh, what? A mutant? Wha- how, erh why would you think-"

Her next words left him completely dumbfounded, "Look, umh, I… am actually really against mutants, ok? The danger of having your… 'abilities', that much power, or whatever when the rest of society doesn't- it's unnatural. So much power in the hands of people makes supervillains. And just…" her expression screwed up in distaste, her whole disposition turning stiff with- Bruce felt his stomach drop- fear; she held up a hand to stop Bruce from speaking, "Just, umh, don't call me, ok? I'm sorry, but, umh, just please don't… you know, come after me. Since you know where I live," her face paled, "I just, umh, I'm just really not attracted to… mutant men, so… umh…" she hesitated a moment longer, before bolting for the door, grabbing her coat on the way out.

And just like that, she was gone in a swirl of red out into the sunlight. Apparently, her taste in clothes wasn't the only old-fashioned affinity of hers.

Bruce, sat for a good minute, trying to contain his emotions. He may not be mutant, but the way she looked at him… things had been going so well, and all he had to do was show his other side for a second.

Bruce growled trying to hold back the rage. He wanted to rip the very skin off his body, pour out all the mutated, green blood inside him, and poor it out. As long as he was rid of this curse, he'd be happy. As long as he could be free of this…

The seat underneath Bruce shifted, and he went to shoot a glare at whomever would dare to disturb him at this moment, but he stopped. Peter sat beside him, eyes sad and worried, remorseful.

"Hey, Dad," he said quietly, his hands covering his father's.

Bruce lost some of the rage, but he could still feel it boiling just below the surface.

He felt his jaw go slack and the distinct wetness in his eyes told him he was crying- in front of his team and son.

The others had silently slid into the seat across from him, a stark (irony) contrast to the splash of red that had sat there only moments before.

"She left… because she saw me turn green," His hands formed fists, crushing the fragile metal spoon he'd held in it, "She thought-" Bruce huffed a laugh- "She thought I was a mutant, and she believes mutants are 'unnatural'."

Clint scoffed from across the table, "I hate people like that. They think just because someone was born with an ability they could never even think of having, and all of a sudden that child's a monster-" Clint stopped, looking over at Peter. Technically, the boy was a mutant, of sorts. If the passing down of a failed 'super soldier' serum crossed with a radioactive spider bite could be counted.

Peter unfolded his dad's left fist, pulling the crumpled spoon out. The older man's hand was green at the palm, where the Hulk form had emerged against the pain of the spoon digging into his flesh.

Bruce's eyes swirled with green as he stared at his hand.

"Dad," his son still held his hand, and he quietly turned his palm up beside his father's on the table. Bruce watched as the boy's hand turned green in a patch of the same general shape as his. Peter was always so much better at controlling his green side; it was more a part of him than Bruce's was, the boy's consciousness staying in tact when he transformed fully into his own 'Hulk' form.

The others were quiet as they watched son calm down his father.

"Look, we talked about this, didn't we?" Bruce looked up at him, brow furrowed, "We agreed that if you were ever to date again, they'd have to be ok with who we are, who our family is. And what's her face-" Peter gestured towards the front door.

"-Amelia."

"Amelia, she wasn't ok with who you are. Whether or not we're mutant, we have abilities that make us different from the rest of the world, and the people in our lives need to be willing to accept that," Peter finished quietly, giving his father's hand a gentle squeeze of comfort.

Bruce flashed Peter a brief smile, thankful to have such a person in his life, even if he still felt that irrepressible rage and hurt still bubbling inside.

Natasha's gentle, cajoling voice finally broke the tension in Bruce's shoulders, "C'mon, let's go and grab a cone from Charlie's."

Charlie's was a place they'd been frequenting since Peter was little, both in and out of costume. It was in a remote part of Queens, a tiny stand sandwiched between a mom &amp; pop grocer's and a rickety, old flower shop.

The group made their way to the cars, Cap being nice enough to foot the bill while Clint pulled the car around.

The group drove up to Charlie's, and walked in, the man himself behind the counter. He smiled brightly at them, like he always did, and greeted them with a few joking quips about being his favorite customers since they always payed extra, adding a wink at Peter.

They all ordered and sat down at the biggest booth in the tiny ice cream shop. Above them on the wall were a number of pictures of said booth, all of which showed the team, in civilian clothing, celebrating Peter's birthdays over the years. One particularly funny one, which Charlie refused to take down, was of Clint's birthday, where the archer was forced to wear a sparkly purple party hat and a specially made Barbie princess ice cream cake set before him. The man was shaking sparkly glitter out of his hair for weeks after.

Charlie and his daughter, a nice woman who was happily married to the local fire chief, and pregnant with their second child, served their orders and let them be.

Peter couldn't help but send the old man a thankful smile when he noticed that Bruce's mango sorbet had an extra scoop on it. Charlie was always good at telling who needed an extra scoop and who needed more sprinkles and so on.

The team had a good time, thoroughly distracting Bruce from his lightning quick disaster date. They talked about the new mission that was coming up, and Peter spent a good twenty minutes discussing a school project he'd been working on- usually, Clint would've complained that his brain was melting at some point, but Bruce seemed to perk up a bit, so the three avengers did their best to keep up with the spew of science spilling before their eyes.

Finally, it was time to head back to the tower, and Peter ended up driving home in his dad's car.

They'd stayed pretty quiet for the majority of the ride, until Bruce's quiet question, "Does it bother you, ever, Peter? Having to deal with superpowers? Having to deal with… your dad, and your family too, heading off on dangerous missions? Do you ever wish you were, normal?"

Peter sat for a moment in silence, "Dad, I don't want to lie to you and say I've never thought about it. Being a normal kid, not having a police radio scanner installed into my alarm clock or interrupting homework when Tony blows up the lab," the boy smirked before turning serious, "It's scary knowing that you and the others go out and fight supervillains, that you could die, and I would be…" Peter swallowed as a lump formed in his throat, "alone. Again. But, you know…" Bruce glance at his son, the boy staring out the window at the passing trees, "I would never trade my life for a different one. I like who I am, I love my family, my dad," Peter caught his father's eye and grinned, "and I love to use my abilities. I can't even begin to imagine living without them. They're who I am, and those people out there who fear people like you and me, who call us monsters or freaks, just because we have abilities beyond their own, they'll turn around just as quickly when they need our help. It's not that we're monsters, cuz we're not, honestly we're not even close. It's that we're powerful, enough so that they need us, and nobody likes feeling helpless, and that makes them bullies. They don't like that we're different and it makes them feel helpless, so they bully us and make us believe ourselves to be less than we are-" Peter stopped, blushing, "and I'm rambling now, great. Ok, ignore me. Just," he looked at his dad, the older man smirking slightly, "Oh, shut up. Whatever, but you get what I'm saying?"

Bruce looked at his son, before smiling and nodding his head.

They had reached the Avenger's Tower parking garage.

Everyone was probably already inside, and Tony would want all the juicy details. Bruce sighed, he loved his family, and he knew that there would always be people out there who saw him as a monster, but when he looked at his son, and felt that jolt of pride run through him, his heart swelled and he felt as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

"Besides," Peter continued as he walked to the elevator, "Nat totally was a crush on you."

"What?!"

* * *

**You know, in my original version of Spidey Boy and the Jolly Green Giant, Nat and Cap were together, but after seeing Age of Ultron last year, I just didn't feel like using that for my revamp. Bruce and Natasha is that perfect pairing that's right under your nose, and when you finally see it, you just want to slap yourself silly for not having thought of it before.**

**Anyhoo, I can't really see Bruce with anyone else besides Natasha, and Amelia was... I actually like her, but then she turned too sugar sweet, and all of a sudden this whole date got away from me- me! the author! I know, I'm totally offended too!- so she turned into narrow-minded mutant hater.**

**Woah, yeah, that was kind of a blind side for me. I had to revise a few times to make her response more believable, but I still think it came off as a bit forced.**

**ALSO, HOW CAN PEOPLE BE OK WITH THE AVENGERS, BUT THERE'S THIS WHOLE "MUTANT PURGE" GOING ON AT THE SAME TIME. It's so dumb, I just want to strangle all the people in this universe until- ok, had to delete that, cuz I was gettin' a little too hot-headed. Alright, I'll let you guys go now.**

**Stay tuned for more updates soon, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE put in requests for one-shots or short whatever-ness. Different pairings, if you want. I'm open to suggestions!**


	9. Peter and Wade Play Video Games

**I have no idea what the hell this is. Just enjoy the bromance and the cute Peter-ness and all the references back to my childhood of watching my brother play video games.**

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Age 14 and 12:

Peter had fought against it tooth and nail at first, but Wade was, as he had been from the moment they'd met, a barnacle.

Whenever the blonde boy came over to play with Peter, they'd sooner or later end up playing video games.

And sooner or later, Wade would drag Peter to sit in between his legs. Peter had thought it was weird and been really uncomfortable at first, demanding Wade to let go of him when he tried to move away.

Wade had simply held on tighter, handing Peter his controller and saying it was only weird if he made it weird. Peter had huffed and snatched the controller from the other boy's hands. The same thing happened for the next 3 times they played- Wade dragging Peter into his lap, Peter complaining, and Wade arguing with him until he gave up.

After a few more times of being dragged into the other boy's lap and deciding it wasn't worth the effort, Peter began to sit in Wade's lap without the need of being dragged into the embrace.

The two boys would sit, cuddled up together, completely content to just be as they played their games.

Super Mario, Crash Bandicoot, Half-Life, Zelda, and whatever else they could get their hands on. They were all classic 90s, because the gaming system Peter was using was an old playstation he'd found in a dumpster and put back together on his own. He was really proud of it, and both he and Wade were constantly playing for hours at a time, leaning against one another as they battled aliens and evil doctors.

When they had finally defeated the last boss level of Crash Bandicoot, Wade suggested they watch a movie.

Peter moved out of the other boy's reach, shuffling over to the dvd cabinet and suggesting what to watch.

The two finally settled on Fast and Furious 3.

Wade was a little surprised when Peter sat right back down in his lap, and soon the two were comfortably watching cars race and explode.

Halfway through the film, Peter's head bumped against Wade's shoulder, and the older boy looked down to see his friend fast asleep.

Wade chuckled before picking him up- even after growing gangly limbs and huge ears that came with nearly being a teenager, Peter was still unnaturally light.

Wade carried him over to the couch as they had been sitting on the ground and his butt was beginning to hurt from the hard surface.

Settling gently into the couch, Wade shifted Peter and himself slightly so that they lay sprawled beside one another, the legs tangled together and Peter's head rising softly with Wade's every breath.

The boy sighed; never, no matter how much time passed or what happened to them, would Peter stop being anything but a naive Baby Boy.

Wade smiled ruefully, and laid his head down, the two of them bathed in blue light from the tv as the sun had set hours ago.

He quickly slipped away into dreams.

* * *

**It wasn't exactly what I had pictured in my head- there was going to be more cuddly cuteness and less video games- but it was kinda cute, I guess.**


End file.
